Fire lights up the screen as the Nitro logo appears flashing amongst it.

Edward Newton and The Red Death stand in the lobby of a rather large house. It’s empty, but looks like it could be an idyllic family home.

Only it won’t be.

“What do you think?” Edward asks, spreading his arms wide joyously. “Wonderful isn’t it?”

Death grunts.

“Oh, what’s the matter now? I told you that there’s a plan, did I not? You’ll put Luke Storm in the ground but not before I exact my revenge.”

The Red Death stares straight through The Riddler.

“Tonight will be an extraordinary night, dear boy, believe me. Now, what do you think? This’ll be a great base of operations, won’t it?”

“It’s off the beaten path, has plenty of room and won’t be found,” Death reluctantly responds. “It’s everything you asked for.”

Newton grins.

“Ǝ Headquarters,” Edward proudly announces. “Now, go and get the girl, would you?”

Death opens the door and exits to the front of the property. Newton meanwhile stays inside, beaming from ear to ear with a ginormous smile. He walks into a living room and stops before a wooden chair.

Sat in it, an elderly, tied up and bleeding profusely.

The Riddler rolls his eyes, walks over and checks his pulse.

“Dead,” he sneers. “Wonderful.”

Just then, in walks The Red Death with Scarlett Storm.

Edward stands in front of the body, hiding it from view.

“Scarlett, welcome home,” he announces. “I’ve a bedroom for you upstairs, in fact, choose any one you wish and its yours.”

She just stares at him.

“Go on,” he hisses sinisterly.

She doesn’t need another invitation.

Scarlett carefully backs away and walks up the stairs, leaving Newton and Red Death alone in the living room.

Edward steps before Death, angrily confronting him.

“Isn’t all this a little unnecessary,” he says, looking back over his shoulder at the body. “You’ll attract unwanted attention.”

Death shakes his head.

“He pissed me off,” Red relies with dead eyes. “So, I beat him to death. Let’s call it a preview of Luke Storm’s future.”

The Riddler smiles. “Very well, dear boy. Very well. In due time, you’ll end his miserable life, I promise it. But before that day, you are not to harm Scarlett Storm; do you understand?”

He chuckles vilely.

Edward suddenly lunges forward, running him into the spiral staircase behind them with such force that it snaps one of the metal bars.

“If you harm that fucking girl, I’ll kill you myself.”

The Red Death gulps, reluctantly nodding.

The Riddler releases him, straightening himself out.

“I need her, which means you need her.”



The Butcher sits in his office, puffing on a giant cigar when a portal abruptly opens in front of him. He stands, watching as Sigil walks through.

“Butcher, we need to talk.”

Colin offers him a seat.

“There’s no time,” he grumbles. “Darby Sorrow comes for you. He’s convinced that you’ve lied to him and he’s going to kill you.”

The Butcher shakes his head.

“You need to get out of town and never look back. He won’t stop until you’re in the ground and there’s nothing you can do to stop a man who cannot die.”

“If only we had that time piece,” The Butcher says. “I only want one thing. You promised me that much, Sigil. I’ve done everything you’ve asked for. I created this place, I funded this whole charade because of what you promised me.”

“I won’t stop looking for a way to get you what you want,” Sigil replies. “But not here and not now. If you don’t leave, Darby Sorrow will kill you; it’s inevitable.”

The Butcher shakes his head, sitting back down in his chair.

“Then so be it,” he growls. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sigil sighs.

“Darby Sorrow doesn’t come for The Butcher, Sigil.”

He chuckles.

“The Butcher comes for Darby Sorrow.”



It’s a battle of different philosophies and styles as Banzan, Junkrat, and Aesop take on Pickpocket, The Judge, and Javad Ebadi!

Junkrat and Ebadi start things off in this trios match, the Historian using his agility to evade the chaotic offense of the Anarchist. There’s only so much that Ebadi can avoid, however, before Junkrat catches him by surprise with a drop toehold! Junkrat cackles at this, but Aesop tags in!

Aesop ignores a visibly angry Junkrat as he goes to work on Ebadi with a bit of technical mastery before picking the Historian up for a brainbuster, driving Ebadi’s head into the canvas. Aesop looks to finish this early with The Gift, but Ebadi escapes, tagging in an eager Pickpocket!

Pickpocket is ready to make a statement as he unloads a flurry of offense on Aesop, hitting a tornado DDT off the turnbuckle! Pickpocket taunts Aesop to come at him, but Aesop wisely tags in Banzan…who uses Tiger Stance to decimate Pickpocket, forcing the thief to tag in The Judge!

The titans stand face to face before Banzan gets into Mountain Stance, deflecting the hard-hitting offense of The Judge before transitioning back to Tiger Stance in a show of strength. Judge tries to counter this offense, but is caught by a TIGER CLAW by Banzan, who follows with a MAGGA and the cover! ONE! TWO! THREE!!!

The Mountain was too much for The Judge tonight, Banzan standing over his fallen opponent as the ref raises his arm in victory!


We find Obasi Bocamo surrounded by a gaggle of his militia, deep in conversation. A run down room inside a housing project building houses his war-roomesque headquarters. A scattering of files sits on a side table. The Blood King places another file from his hands atop the table as he speaks.

“Is dat clear?”

A murmur of loyal agreement sounds from his men.

“And nowhere, in all of this paperwork, be there any proof of anything he claims. What is lies, what be truth… That is the information I require.”

His meeting is soon broken as a voice sounds from outside the window, overlooking the compound’s carpark.

“Sir, is that de man you speak of? He approaches…”

Surely enough, when Bocamo clambers to the window to observe, Marvolo himself is standing below in the centre of the compound, a smug smile on his face.

“Marvolo has come to make amends. Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot last week. You not knowing the legends of Molvanîa, you weren’t to know what legendary figure stood before you. It is an understandable mistake to make. So, Marvolo will just take the apology you owe him now…”

The militia that had by now formed on the balcony keep their weapons trained on Marvolo as Bocamo himself steps out of the room and onto the balcony with his men. He calls down to Marvolo.

“Little fat man has a death wish. The Blood King owes you nothing but a bullet in your head, which I will be only to happy to oblige if you dare insult me again.”

Marvolo dramatically feigns offense, bringing his hands to his mouth. It is only now that we see he clutches a small device in his fingers.

“Well… Marvolo tried. And you really should be more careful who you give keys to your compound to. Marvolo found a set just lying around.”

With that, he presses a button on the small device…



The room that Bocamo had been standing in explodes. The balcony collapses, bringing down Bocamo and his men, and half the building on top of them.

When the dust clears, Marvolo is still standing in the centre of the compound, or what is left of it. His chest puffed, looking supremely proud of himself. He stands over the unconscious body of Obasi Bocamo, half covered in rubble from the building.

“You bring a knife to the throat of Marvolo, you threaten Marvolo… Marvolo is very disappointed in you.”

With that, he spits atop the rubble and dramatically about turns on his heel, flicking his cape behind him before strutting off into the sunset.



SeeSaw, a mostly unhinged psychopath versus Helstrom, a psychopath just boiling beneath the surface, versus Chuck Miles, a debuting superstar.

The bell rings and immediately Helstrom and SeeSaw move in on Miles! Running knee from Helstrom! Helstrom scoops Miles up and whips him into the ropes, where he meets a big boot from SeeSaw! SeeSaw drops an elbow! Helstrom does too! They both stomp away at the new comer!

But its SeeSaw who drops Helstrom now with a clothesline! SeeSaw scoops Helstrom up and whips him into the turnbuckles! WHOOPIE CUSHION!!! NO!!! SeeSaw collides ass first into the turnbuckles! YINGLONG’S FLAME!!! HELSTROM NAILS HIS FINISHER!!! HE MAKES THE FUCKING COVER!!! ONE… TWO… THREEEEEEE– NO!!! CHUCK MILES BREAKS IT UP!

Helstrom roars to his feet and grabs Chuck by the throat! CHOKESLAM!!! He picks up Miles who is out cold and whips him into the turnbuckles! SPLASH!!! Miles stumbles out of the corner and drops face first! SUPERFINE TURBINE BLAST TO HELSTROM BY SEESAW! GORE! SPINEBUSTER! COMBO!

SeeSaw climbs to the top turnbuckle. He begins flapping his wings!!! FLIGHT OF THE ORNITHOPTER ONTO MILES!!! ONE!!! TWO!!! THREEEEEEEEE!!! …NOOOO!!! Chuck Miles just barely kicks out!!! Helstrom climbs to his feet and charges SeeSaw!!! YINGYONG’S FLAME AGAIN!!! NO!!! SEESAW DODGES!!! HE GRABS HELSTROM!!! THE TEETER TOTTER!!! IT’S OVER!!! ONE!!! TWO!!! THREEEEEEEEE!!!

SeeSaw picks up yet another win in his impressive OSW career. He has his arm raised in victory by the ref.


A beautiful beach: blue sky, clear water, white sand.

And a hulking madman in a metal mask, stood just beyond the reach of the tide.

Mez is building a sand castle more beautiful than you can believe.

On a ridge not far away, The Judge stands with his mighty axe. A blue portal sits just behind him. Through it, the dark confines of Mez’s cell are just barely visible.

Mez’s sand castle is a wonderful, turreted, ornate structure. He uses the small yellow shovel and red pail he found discarded in the sand to build it–carefully and calmly.

“Fascinating. He’s capable of… beauty?” The Judge says to himself, almost amazed. “It’s time for a test.”

The Judge raises his hand. He extends it towards the water and motions with his fingers.

The water rises and swells.

A tall wave comes barreling in from the sea, directly at Mez’s sand castle.

The massive swell sweeps Mez off his feet. The castle is reduced to a few wet lumps.

For a moment, Mez just floats face-up on the receding water. He laughs. It’s pure and childlike.

Then, Mez rises. The water drips off his hulking frame.

He sees what has become of his creation.

He sees The Judge, standing behind it.

Mez screams. Then comes charging at The Judge.

“BALANCE, MEZ!” The Judge screams. “Seek it!”

Suddenly Mez leaps, taking the The Judge by surprise. The Madman spears The Judge back through the portal, returning them to the asylum.

The portal closes as they tumble in.

“YOU CHEAT!” Mez bellows as he hits the floor. “Scales. Rigged.”

“You can’t control yourself!” The Judge barks, getting up and quickly opening another portal.


The Judge just stares at him.

Mez points upward, toward Warden Johnson and the rest.


“A… moment of cognizance?” The Judge wonders aloud. “But the question is: did they?”

Mez lunges viciously at the The Judge, but The Judge deftly dives through his portal. It closes instantly behind him.

Once again, Mez is alone, his body still dripping wet and caked in sand.

This time, he doesn’t scream.



30 minutes south of Las Vegas, Mark Gouldern has set up a pristine fighting arena reminiscent of the Coliseum in its prime. X walks up to him confusedly.

“If all I was going to do was fight, why are we in the desert and not at the slaughterhouse?”

“I told you, you need a change of scenery but the truth is that bloodlust that runs in you won’t get better until my next upgrade. It will only get worse and manifest in a tragedy much worse than some bovine corpses.”

“You’re right, the rats weren’t enough so I moved to chickens. The chickens weren’t enough so I moved on to cows but I know what’s next. It’s not the quantity of blood I crave, it’s the meaning behind the kill and murdering innocent creatures does nothing for me, it just numbs the craving.”

“I thought so which is why I made this for you. Everyone here is hereby my invitation and there should be no guilt associated with these kills. The men you will face are the worst of society plucked from death row itself. You get to kill men who are going to die anyway and actually feel a sense of pride when you strike that death blow.”

“How are they here? What did you offer them?”

“I made a deal with their respective wardens. If you kill them, they serve their sentence without wasting taxpayer dollars and if they somehow survive, they are granted their freedom.”

“They won’t survive.”

“We know that but do they know that?”

Coming down the stairs are hundreds of men in orange jumpsuits waiting their turn and in the middle of the crowd are Aesop and Banzan.

“I am not content in this place, Aesop, all should tremble at violence; all fear death. Putting oneself in the place of another, one should not kill nor cause another to kill.”

Aesop puts his hand on his concerned friend’s shoulder.

“We’re not here for murder Banzan, we’re here to stop it. Consider the raven and the swan.”

“Ah yes, tell me the fable again.”

“A raven, which you know is black as coal, was envious of the swan because her feathers were as white as the purest snow. The foolish bird got the idea that if he lived like the swan, swimming, and diving all day long and eating the weeds and plants that grow in the water, his feathers would turn white like the swan’s.”

“So he left his home in the woods and fields and flew down to live on the lakes and in the marshes. But though he washed and washed all day long, almost drowning himself at it, his feathers remained as black as ever. And as the water weeds he ate did not agree with him, he got thinner and thinner, and at last, he died.”

“Of course, a change of habits will not alter nature and both of them are changing their habits. Gouldern is bound to starve without doing something for greed and X could soon starve without a kill. Starvation might be our path to breaking up Imperium.”

“Correct, so how do we starve them?”

“By using their very nature against them.”

Banzan whispers a plan to Aesop and Aesop simply nods.



The Red Death locks up with the skeletal Cryptkeeper in an apt setting – The Bone Yard!

Death comes for The Storyteller with multiple knees into his exposed ribs – which somehow don’t break. ‘Keeper goes to strike back, but The Crimson Scourge blocks him and hacks away at his sinewy joints with elbows and kicks. Red then grabs him and MASHES his bony face into the unforgiving steel cage! That’s still gotta hurt, flesh or no flesh!

‘Keeper ROCKS him with a backwards headbutt, then tucks him in and reads him a BEDTIME STORY! Death struggles against the torturous bear hug, but ‘Keeper PLOWS him into the mesh wall over and over again! Red is stuck between a rock and a hard place here. As The Cursed prepares for another gore, however, The Dark Reaper kicks his knee out…

Escaping the bear hug, Death backs up for the KILLING JOKE! Scraps of withered skin are left behind as Red bulldogs ‘Keeper into the cage! ONE… TWO… KICKOUT! Cryptkeeper’s tale doesn’t end here. Death peels him off the wooden mat – only to eat an eye rake! ‘Keeper hurls him into the cage, then hits the big boot. That story had A BEGINNING, MIDDLE & END! ONE… TWO… SHOULDER UP! The Red Death shall have his vengeance yet.

Both gladiators rise for a final showdown. CURSE OF THE CRYPTKEEPER!? Wait… Death blocks the surprise European uppercut and underhooks the arms – RETURN TO ARKHAM DDT! He PLANTS ‘Keeper’s skull into the hard wooden ring. He isn’t done yet, though. DARKNESS FAL—CURSE OF THE CRYPTKEEPER! He cuts the curb stomp off with the uppercut out of nowhere! ONE… TWO… THREE! Mercifully, this one is over.

The Cryptkeeper adds The Bone Yard to his tome of tales tonight!


The corridors of the Slaughterhouse echo with the distant voices of a conversation.

“I will continue to keep watch over Sigil, but I have nothing for you Mister Whitlock.”

Javad Ebadi and Alton Whitlock stand face to face discussing Ebadi’s forced investigation of Sigil and the Time Crystal.

“But please. I wish to know my people are safe.” Javad continues.

Whitlock looks at him for a moment. He runs a finger over his scar.

“Do you know why I chose to remain with Imperium, Javad?”

Javad blinks.

“Some things are more important than others, hm? For example, finding the man who did THIS to me,” he says, running his hand over his scar again, “is FAR more important than any POLITICAL aspirations I might have. And if I am honest, I feel that Berkshire and Gouldern’s ideologies might well be shaped into something that, in time, I can get behind.”

“Nonetheless, Javad, in politics, as in real life, one must make certain COMPROMISES for the greater good. In your case, a sacrifice might well be necessary for the greater good.”

“So no, I shall not let you know your people are safe. Because they are NOT. They are COLLATERAL.”

“Time is of the essence, Javad.”

Whitlock grabs Javad by the throat, pressing him up against the wall.

“Find out what I need to know by next week,” he spits, “or Persia shall FALL.”

Whitlock releases Javad and sets off up the corridor, leaving The Historian to shake his head.

“I shall give you the information you seek, for the sake of Persia.” Javad mutters to himself, “but none of it will be helpful…”


Sigil faces all of Imperium in a gauntlet match! Sigil is waiting in the ring but who comes out first to face him? It’s the politician, Alton Whitlock! It’s the start of an uphill battle! Can Sigil survive them all? We find out next!

DING! DING! Sigil rushes Alton to the corner! Sigil is desperate to get this one over with! Gut punch after gut punch! Sigil backs up! Running body splash! No! Alton gets his knees up! Sigil is stunned! Alton hops to the middle rope! He hits the blockbuster! Flipping neckbreaker by Alton and he covers! One! Two! Thr…No! Sigil gets the shoulder up!

Alton starts stomping away at Sigil! He pulls Sigil up and puts him on his shoulders! He’s going for the Joker driver! No! Sigil slips out of it! MERCIFUL! Sigil hits the neck chop from behind! Sigil covers! One! Two! Thr…No! Alton’s foot is on the ropes! COSMIC LEAP! Sigil makes a portal directly below himself and another one above Alton! Diving foot stomp to the leg on the ropes!

Alton is screaming in pain! Sigil pulls him off the ropes and locks in the calf crusher! ON WOUNDED LEGS! Alton is in agony and he is crawling to the ropes! Can he make it? He’s close but it looks like he might give any second! One last burst of energy and he collapses on the ropes! Sigil starts stomping away at Alton before backing up!

Alton gets up and Sigil rushes at him! Alton puts a boot up but COSMIC LEAP! Sigil teleports behind Alton and spins him around! FINITE! The leaping roundhouse kick from Sigil! No! Alton ducks it and grabs Sigil from behind! German suplex! He pulls Sigil up and traps his arms! He spins it around and lifts him! A BETTER WORLD! He drops Sigil with the vertebreaker and covers! One! Two! Three!

Alton has done it for all of Imperium! Sigil put up a good fight but it’s a rough night for him as he couldn’t beat any of his opponents tonight.



Not particularly good whistling mind you, but not bad enough to make you want to plug your ears. Tuneless whistling, the kind of whistling you do for the sake of whistling rather than for the sound.

And if it weren’t for the occasional sounds of a monkey chattering in, we’d never know it was coming from the one and only Pickpocket. The Lil’ Scoundrel himself walking the halls of the Slaughterhouse with a pep in his step and a jingle in his pocket!

The dynamic duo however stop in their tracks as they sniff the air, smelling it and looking to one another with a grin.

“Smell that, BJ? Smells like… stew! Maybe beef? Not like, school bully beef, but mom’s home cooking beef. I wonder…”

The dashing rogue and his monkey cohort make haste towards the smell, following it to an old back room where, in a big steel pot upon a stove, sits the tastiest smelling stew this street thief has ever smelled! He slid up to it and looked around, snatching a nearby bowl and spoon.

“Well, Buford, if no one’s around to say we can’t have some, then I suppose it’d be rude to let it go to waste.”

He went to scoop some up into the bowl when he gets grappled from behind! Pickpocket is turned around and is face to face with Scrimshaw and two of his men, the captain holding onto the thief with a claw like grip.

“So, Pickpocket. I see you came to steal more from me crew. And you can have some… if you tell me where the gold you stole from me is hidin’.”

Pickpocket chuckles nervously, looking at the bowl full of soup in his right hand.

“Well, you see that’s a, uh, a funny story. The gold is… SOUP TO THE FACE!”

And, while Pickpocket is a thief, he doesn’t seem to be a liar! He flings the soup into the crew’s faces, Scrimshaw letting to as Pickpocket jerks away and rushes out the door, putting quite the distance between himself and Scrimshaw! Once he’s a good ways away he hides in a nearby closet and chuckles, catching his breath.

“Oh man! I thought he had us there, right BJ?”

He pauses, looking over his shoulder.


Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, one damn dirty ape is splashing around in a hot pot of soup after falling off of his best friend’s shoulder. Scrimshaw drags BJ out of the pot and scowls, tossing the monkey to a crew member on his right side.

“Cage this stinkin’ tree rat fer me. If Pickpocket’s wantin’ to see his friend again he can buy him back. And dump out the stew, I ain’t one for hair and dingleberry in me dinner.”

The crew mate nods his head, holding onto the fighting monkey as he goes off to find a cage to put him in.


The Old Sea Dog looks to break a losing streak in the biggest way here tonight but can he be the first man to make the Riddler say I Quit or will he be another victim of Edward Newton?

The bell sounds as Scrimshaw rushes at Newton, surprising the Riddler with a stiff right to the jaw before a vicious DDT spikes him into the mat. Scrimshaw quickly pulls a groggy Newton up by the back of the head before lifting him up for a German Suplex.

The Riddler manages to roll through, trying to deliver a soccer kick to the side of the head on a grounded Scrimshaw but the Sea Dog catches the foot, standing up as a hopping Riddler tries to fight him off. DRAGGED TO THE DEPTHS! The Saito Suplex hits flush.

Scrimshaw tries to pull Newton up but the Riddler clutches tight to the nearby ropes, pushing Scrimshaw away with an errant boot to the jaw. Scrimshaw stumbles away for a moment, before turning around, STEEL CHAIN TO THE HEAD! Newton just nailed Scrimshaw with a chain assisted right hand and the old sea dog may well be busted wide open

Newton drops down, delivering a few more stiff right hands to Scrimshaw, now ensuring he’s busted open before lifting the groggy Scrimshaw up onto his shoulders. ENIGMA THEOREM! The Death Valley Driver spikes Scrimshaw into the mat but Newton isn’t done as he kneels down and locks the sea dog into the RIDDLE BOX Liontamer! The point of his knee into Scrimshaw’s neck, Scrimshaw screams out I QUIT! as the referee quickly calls for the bell.

Another win for the Riddler here tonight as he sends Scrimshaw down to the depths below for another loss.


After the Show.

Stood behind an ancient podium, the Cryptkeeper is writing in The Crypt. Using a quill pen, he meticulously writes out the tale in a language only he can read.

The Tale of Kenny Freeman.

With a labored sigh, The Cursed raises his head.

“No cameras?” He says, mockingly, to the intruder making his way before him.


Mr. Make Believe takes in his environment with childlike curiosity. He waves his hand wildly at the Cryptkeeper.

“The kids wanted to hear the story.” He asks, ignoring Cryptkeeper’s question. “Why did you leave us?”

Silence reigns for a moment, before Cryptkeeper seems to shrug.

“I found what I needed to know.”

SeeSaw shakes his head.

“But you didn’t know about my show? Or the cameras? How can you tell the story of Kenny Freeman without me!? You don’t even know me!”

The Cursed raises what should be an eyebrow.

“I don’t know you?” He sneers. “I know that the creature standing before me is the only thing real about you. Obsessive. Addicted. Your childish fervor only deludes those who are children yourself. I wanted to know how Kenny Freeman met his end, and that road led to you. As have many roads.”

SeeSaw grins.

“But he didn’t end. I made him bet…”

The Cryptkeeper slams The Crypt shut with a thud.

“Don’t mistake my interest in him for interest in you, boy. Your story has not yet ended.”

As if wounded, SeeSaw seems to shrink before the Cursed, the cheerful demeanor seeming to fade from the face of Mr. Make Believe.

“I don’t want your respect.” SeeSaw says, his voice barely a whisper. Guttural. “I want to hear the story.”

The tiniest of smiles appears on Cryptkeeper’s face.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

SeeSaw rebounds from his wounding with a puppy dog nod.

“There’s only one way to know.” The Cryptkeeper holds up a decrepit hand. “Behold the Tale of Kenny Freeman.”

He snaps his fingers.

SeeSaw vanishes.

To be continued…


Tonight we have Number One, Marvolo squaring off against the power that is Mez. An ambulance awaits them at ringside, ready to claim its victim. Only one will walk away!

Mez begins the match quickly, catching Marvolo in all of his pre-match bravado and TAKING HIM OUT WITH A GUTCHECK TO BEGIN PROCEEDINGS! He then picks up a limp Marvolo and simply tosses him out of the ring! ANARCHY FROM THE RING APRON! HE’S PUMMELLING MARVOLO AT RINGSIDE!

Mr. Johnson barks at Mez, directing him toward the ambulance, and Mez obliges by pulling Marvolo to his feet once more and slamming him HEAD FIRST INTO THE SIDE OF THE AMBULANCE! He grabs Marvolo around the scruff of the neck, but MARVOLO LOW BLOWS HIM! MEZ IS DOWN AND MARVOLO IS IN THIS!

Mez backs himself up against the rear of the ambulance. SHINING WIZARD FROM MARVOLO! CANNONBALL FOLLOWS! Marvolo sticks out his chest and shows off his chest-hair… TOUCH OF DEATH! HE’S GOT MEZ LOCKED IN! WAIT… MEZ GRABS MARVOLO BY THE HAND AND LIFTS HIM INTO THE AIR!

GORILLA PRESS! MEZ TOSSES MARVOLO ON TOP OF THE AMBULANCE! Mez climbs up atop the ambulance after him, but Marvolo meets him with a MASSIVE CHOP! Mez teeters… SUPLEX TO THE FACE… OFF THE AMBULANCE ROOF! Marvolo picks up Mez and drills him again. ANOTHER SUPLEX TO THE FACE… RIGHT INTO THE AMBULANCE! He slams the door shut!

Marvolo poses dramatically, having put Mez away. The smug look on his face is only equalled by the soft waving of his chest hair as his chest is once again puffed in victory!


Helstrom storms through the hallway.

“Junkrat! Junkrat, show yourself at once!”

Junkrat slinks out of the shadows. “I knew your sexy ass would come back you big, beautiful bitch.”

Helstrom shoves a photo in Junkrat’s face.

That photo is of Junkrat doing incredibly dirty things to himself with one hand, and giving a thumbs up with the other.

He’s also crying in this photo.

Ugly crying.

“This was in my locker room,” Helstrom says. “Posted to the mirror.”

“May I explain?”

Helstrom cracks his knuckles. “You need not. For once again, you have insulted me.”

“I didn’t insult you. If anything, it’s a compliment!”

“You are a fool and a nuisance,” Helstrom says and grabs Junkrat by the throat.

“I love you, you bitch! Don’t you see that!?” Junkrat screams as Helstrom lifts Junkrat into the air by the neck. “And you broke my heart! So I came to your room to give you a photo of me and to offer you a position in my fair city of Gary!”

Helstrom shakes his head, confused. “What!?!”

“It’s simple,” Junkrat replies. “I wanted to show you my cock, so I brought you a picture. I want you to be the Sheriff of Gary…”

Junkrat reveals a tin Sheriff’s badge in his hand.

“So I brought you a badge!”

Helstrom drops Junkrat and looks down at the badge. “What is Gary like?”

Junkrat rubs his neck and wraps his arm around Helstrom.

“Babe, it’s a fucking Hell hole.”

This gets Helstrom’s attention. “A Hell hole?”


Hellstrom scratches his chin.




In the Meat Locker, the House Rulez title is once again on the line! It’s Luke Storm vs Darby Sorrow!

The ref begins the match and Darby Sorrow charges across the meatlocker, grabs a meat hook, swings on it and kicks Luke Storm in the chest! Luke stumbles backwards and Darby charges him! MISSILE DROPKICK! Luke slams into the wall and slides down! Darby is already back to his feet!

Darby grabs Luke by the crown of his hair, but Luke sends several shots into Darby’s gut and fights free! A haymaker straight to Darby’s jaw! Darby stumbles back, but rebounds with a LARIAT! NO! LIGHTNING STRIKE! Darby hits the ground like a dead body! He grabs Darby by his hair now and drags him to the nearest dangling meat hook!

Luke starts to place a hook through Darby’s back, but Darby sends a boot into Storm’s gut first! Darby backs up! SORROWFUL LIFE! Luke Storm lands on his back, and hard! Now its Darby dragging Storm by the arm to the nearest meat hook! He stomps Storm a few times in the gut!

Darby drags Storm up to his feet and starts to place the meat hook to his back, but Storm sends a side kick into Darby’s side! He spins Sorrow around! DOWNPOUR! NO! Storm lands on his back! DARBY STOMPS ON HIS FUCKING THROAT!!! NO!!! STORM ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY AND KIPS UP!!! ANOTHER LIGHTNING STRIKE!!! LUKE LIFTS DARBY UP! HE SHOVES A MEAT HOOK INTO HIS BACK!!!

And stiiiillll!!! Luke Storm defends the House Rulez Championship once again! His arm is raised in victory!


Luke Storm may stand tall, but when he turns around, he see’s none other than BEG.

“Unfortunately, my lawyers say the contract is as you’ve stated; loosely written and open for interpretation.”

Storm nods.

“But do you know what isn’t open for interpretation?” Green asks. “Imperium.”

The hounds suddenly enter behind their leader, baying for the blood of The King. Alton Whitlock, Mark Gouldern, X and BEG all take up a section, blocking any exit.

“Money. Glory. Power. That’s what we stand for, Storm. If you think you and The Red idiot are going to waltz into Stormborn and take away our glory, you’ve another thing coming.”

Luke shakes his head. “Do you think you scare me, Green?”

The Champion chuckles with a nod.

“A psychopath has my daughter hostage,” he continues with a snarl. “My wife is dead, my movie career in tatters and one man thinks I’m a murderer. Do your worst, you son of a bitch!”

The fans can be heard roaring!

Green nods at his compatriots as they each close inn. Storm runs at Whitlock first, knocking him down with a big boot to the side of the face. With that distraction, the rest of Imperium swarm him.

Before you know it, Luke Storm is being beaten down.

Clubbing blows send him to the cold floor where the boots reign down.

Green demands that he be gotten up as he takes his jacket off, preparing to punish the King.

Suddenly, a coughing sound interrupts.

It’s Edward Newton!

The Riddler stands behind them with The Red Death alongside him.

“As much as we’d both love to see what happens next, I’m afraid it isn’t in our best interest to see Luke Storm’s legs cut out from beneath him before Stormborn,” The Riddler admits, with a sense of displeasure. “Therefore, I’d hasten you to stop this before we have to interject.”

BEG shakes his head.

“I thought you were supposed to be the smartest mother fucker on the planet?” He asks with a chuckle. “But you can’t do math? There’s four of us and only three of you.”

“You right,” Edward says, walking away.

Green chuckles again, about to land a punch on Storm who’s being held by Whitlock, X and Gouldern.

Edward stops, turning back.

“You should always fight fire with fire.”


Flames suddenly erupt from no-where as a line of fire engulfs the entire edge of the Meat Locker like an Inferno Match.

Imperium immediately drop Storm, huddling together.

Green though, despite being unnerved, pretends to be as confident as ever.

“That’s a nice parlour trick, but it doesn’t help your boy,” he grunts as the heat crashes against his face.

“Oh that’s no parlour trick, dear boy,” Newton replies with a big old smile. “That’s hell itself.”

They all turn to see Helstrom stood surrounded by flames.

“Imperium? That’s a unique little grouping you’ve got there,” The Riddler continues. “But meet my new associate; Helstrom. The third member of a little group I like to call Ǝnigma.”

The fire suddenly stops and the brawl begins. Newton and Red Death storm Imperium to join Helstrom as the battle unfolds.

Helstrom immediately blasts a wave of fire towards X, who barely uses his arm to block it from hitting his face.

Whitlock is dropped by The Red Death and a vicious Clothesline.

Whilst Newton tackles Mark Gouldern like a mad man, laying into him with punches.

BEG stands amongst the action, trying to figure out his next move.



The fans erupt!

Luke Storm stumbles backwards towards the exit, watching as Enigma and Imperium battle before him.

Jesus Christ.

His face is a picture.

What does he do now?



As Darby Sorrow stumbles out of The Meat Locker, he bumps backwards into a looming figure stood behind him.

The Butcher.

He turns around, immediately being grabbed by the throat. The Butcher slams him backwards against a wall, squeezing.

“You think you can kill me?” He growls, choking the life from Sorrow. “Sigil told me you were coming. He told me you were going to kill me.”

“That’s,” Sorrow tries to say whilst choking. “Not…”

The Butcher abruptly drops him.

“That’s not what he told me,” Darby says, holding his throat. “He told me what your plan was, Butcher.”

“What plan?” Colin yells.

“You wanted the timepiece to steal my immortality; Sigil told me everything.”

The look on The Butcher’s face is priceless. He knows that isn’t true. He shakes his head, realizing that he’s been played. Sigil has tried to get them to destroy one another.

“That son of a bitch has the watch, doesn’t he?” Colin grumbles, pacing back and forth. “I knew he was lying.”

Sorrow frowns. “He does.”

“He’s playing us,” The Butcher finally concludes aloud. “He wants us focused on each other so he can keep the watch. I agreed to help him find the timepiece, not because I wanted your immortality, but because I wanted to…”


Suddenly, time freezes.

A portal opens and through it appears Sigil and Flavo, together.

“This is a predicament, isn’t it?” Flavo says with a knowing chuckle. “But here lies your first lesson.”

Sigil nods. “What do I have to do?”

“Every time you modify the natural order by manipulating time, things change. They change based upon the action you commit. For example, if you were to kill one of these men, in this moment, the consequences would be minimal. But if you were to go back in time and kill them, the consequences would be far greater.”

“You want me to kill one?” The Collector asks. “Which?”

“You choose,” he says nonchalantly. “But remember, there will be consequences.”

The Collector stands between both men, knowing what he must do.

He steps forward.